Monique's plan
by HCMacDonald
Summary: Monique, a new staff member of Rosewood high and trusted friend to the PLL's, suffers from a sleep disorder that sometime leaves her a little crazy. Can she get herself out of a potentially deadly scrape and help capture Rosewood's worst Psycho?


This was the Craziest thing Monique had ever done!

What thirty something woman, with a family safely living overseas and out of the way, considered

doing such a hair brained thing?!

But if she didn't, those poor innocent girls would never have the lives they deserved.

They would never be able to be carefree in the way girls their age took for granted!

They would never be free of the torment!

They could never love and be loved by their families, friends and boyfriends without threat of something happening to them all.

They would always be nervously looking over their shoulders, at their phones, lap tops or into their lockers at high school for yet another threatening message the minute they dared to relax.

Always another menacing threat by that relentless and psychotic 'A'!

No!

Even if Monique _died trying_ tonight, it would not be in vain if she could help it!

Jason Dilaurentis eyed Monique from across his crowded guest filled living room, feeling that not all was right with the older woman.

She had been twitchy all night. He knew that she sometimes suffered from insomnia, yet, he hadn't noticed the slightly crazed look in her blood shot eyes before tonight.

She possessed the look of someone who was on the verge of desperation. Someone who just couldn't rest, yet who was also dangerously at the end of her rope.

When your own body chemicals ran against you in the dead of night, there was only so much temporary insanity one could take. Jason knew what it was like as he had been there himself.

He liked and respected Monique. Enough to even want to keep her out of harm's way in her time of need.

Inner demons were a bitch!

He straightened up as he realised she was on the move towards his front door, stopping to say what appeared to be polite farewells to various people.

She waved to him, blowing him a kiss as she opened his front door and disappearing through it.

He counted to ten before he walked carefully up to it and glanced through the peephole.

What he saw made his blood run cold.

It was 10pm before Monique left Jason's party, pausing to check she had everything ready for her attempted late night trapping of Rosewood's worst nightmare.

For once, she was grateful for the relentless creaking of the old rickety front porch and the noise of the party inside the house, masking both her creaking and any noise that might come next, not to mention alerting and luring A to her presence.

She knew A was out there waiting for her. She had seen a hooded form out of the corner of her eye when she had arrived two hours earlier.

Monique had thought her deliberate big mouthing would draw the bitch or bastard to her. Telling Caleb all about this new version of A after Mona's incarceration, and how much Hannah still cared about him and his safety, had not only resulted in getting the unlikely lovers back together, but had attracted the dark attention as she had hoped.

In the next instant, texts and emails had started to flow in thick and fast with riddle-like death threats, blackmails and dares. This enabled her to put the next parts of her plan in motion.

The knife in Emily Field's school bag had surely been one A had accidentally left behind during a midnight 'A induced' jaunt they had recently been led on. This A, like the last, was just as careless with belongings as Mona had been.

Perfect, she had decided she could use it frame him or her, of which she still frustratingly didn't know! But, perhaps after tonight, A's gender, or better yet, identity would be more common knowledge.

Whether or not Monique survived.

She carefully removed the knife from her handbag with the aid of a handkerchief in order not to get her finger prints on it. While facing Jason's closed front door, she carefully held it close to her where A couldn't possibly see it.

Holding her breath, she sliced the palm of her left hand open with the blade, causing blood to drip from her palm as she gritted her teeth against the pain.

 _Blood trail - Check_!

After carefully inserting the now bloody knife into her long coat's inner left pocket with her uninjured right hand, she carefully turned to walk down the stairs, freezing as her eyes registered the hooded figure just barely visible in the dark at the foot of the porch stairs.

 _Oh god! This was it! She was really going to do this!_ Monique thought as the reality of her craziness caught up with her.

Perhaps if she was to be killed, it would be over and done with, quickly. Monique considered for the first time since she started scheming, that A might be the torturing kind. _Oh well, too late now!_

She stared her impending doom in the black patch where a face would be under that ever present hoodie and stepped forward to meet it.

 _Oh God! Where the hell did she get that knife? And why was she slicing her own hand open with it?!_

Panic blasted through Jason, making him wonder what Monique was getting herself into and if he could help her after all. He decided that she was well and truly past it this time.

He realised with horror, that she had turned away and was walking towards something. No. _Some one!_ Dressed in an unsettlingly familiar black hoodie.

Maybe Monique was on the A Team!

That though dismissed itself with a bang as Monique tried and failed to step around the hooded figure as a black gloved hand shot out, grapping her left upper arm. The assailant seemingly failed to notice the trail of blood her left hand was leaving. The other gloved hand grabbed a fistful of Monique's hair; painfully forcing her head back.

Jason threw open his front door, ready to intervene as he ran to the end of his porch and down his steps.

As she was dragged along, her feet became tangled with the thug's black boots, causing her to trip over which luckily surprised her assailant enough to let go of her hair. Her body jerking on impact with the ground as her right hand flew forward under the car in a futile effort to protect herself from the fall. At least that was what it looked like from Jason's view.

Despite his efforts to run after them, yesterday's sprained ankle during his basketball game had slowed him down too much. The noise of his party coming through his front door drowned out any sound he made when he screamed out in terror to Monique. This was further worsened when 'Black Hoodie person' grabbed her, scooping her up off the ground with surprising strength and throwing her into the back of the waiting car.

Jason noticed, with further horror, that the car was missing something vital. Something that would help if he were to call the police and try to rescue Rosewood High's PA to the principal and Study Hall supervisor.

The numberplate!

All he could do was watch helplessly as the car sped away with his friend trapped inside, leaking oil permeating his nostrils.

Despite her terror, Monique congratulated herself in reaching her goal in the next part of her plan.

Stabbing the underneath of A's car had been easier than she thought, resulting in a stronger smell of oil and what she thought sounded like trickling as strong hands grabbed her and dragged her back.

 _Oil leak trail - Check!_

A murder case back in her home country (as she was not an American Citizen) had given her the idea. As tragic as the case had been, though:

About eight years ago, a woman had disappeared after her night exercise class and had reportedly never made it home. Her car was located in a suburb across town from where she was last seen. What had led the police to discovering her body was an oil leak from the car.

Unbeknownst to the murderer at the time, the car had accidently been driven over something in the dark night that had damaged the undercarriage, conveniently creating a trail.

 _Good thing the Murderer had been stupid!_ Monique thought.

But how stupid was A?

Despite his helplessness, Jason grabbed his cell phone and dialled 911, frantically reporting everything he had just seen in an effort to still save Monique.

Perhaps a car without a number plate would still stick out like a sore thumb and warrant a police pullover.

What the hell had Monique been thinking, putting herself in danger like that.

Perhaps the woman had a death-wish!

Police sirens cut through the normally peaceful air of Rosewood, galvanising Jason into action.

Officer Barry Maple stepped out of the police car. "Jason!" He called out. "What the Hell?!" He asked, shouting over the party noise coming from inside Jason's house, the remaining guests oblivious to what was going on.

"I know!" Jason responded, miserably.

"Which way did they go?" Maple asked, "We might still be able to catch up with them!"

"That way!" Jason replied, pointing down the road in the direction he had watched the car disappear in.

Maple jumped back into the squad car and sped off in hot pursuit.

Maybe it would still be okay! Jason hoped. Despite his hope, a sick feeling remained in his stomach.

Monique clung to the back of the driver's seat as A sped and bumped along at the wheel.

 _DNA evidence planted in car - check._

She had quietly wiped her bleeding hand under foot mats, back seats and in back seat pockets, hoping that if the police caught up with A, there would be no time to detail the car. Failing that, in the event of her disappearance or death, a thorough clean would not be enough for any policeman deciding to spray Lumiere in the car should it still be located, causing a massive green trumpeting glow.

Either way, A would be screwed!

Bastard!

Bitch!

Whatever!

The car screeched to a Holt, causing Monique to fly to the floor of the car, bruising her ribs painfully on impact.

They had stopped!

 _What now?!_

The driver's door opened.

Footfalls sounded around the perimeter of the car, stopping at the back door where Monique's head rested.

The door opened as her heart thumped. _Oh God! How did I get myself into such a mess?! Did I really want to die?! Too late now!_

The door opened.

The hooded figure loomed over her with still no way of seeing any facial features except a row of white manically grinning teeth, striking further terror into Monique's heart.

She wondered in anyone was close by enough to hear her scream as black gloved hands reached for her.

To be Continued…

Hillary MacDonald is a new young Author who has previously published ebooks, 'Life on The Inside' and 'Close Strangers' on .com.


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